


Venus

by PsykoRedHead16



Series: Encounters of the Fourth Kind [2]
Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Bad Dirty Talk, Drama & Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Miscommunication, Physical Abuse, Swearing, Telepathy, Two Shot, Violence, mental sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22505389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsykoRedHead16/pseuds/PsykoRedHead16
Summary: A single week had passed before Murdoc feels the need to interact with his alien charge turned mate. A week since the blissful moment in the small shack in the trees where everything was irrevocably changed. Part of him wants more yet another part desperately wars against anything nice.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals/Stuart "2D" Pot
Series: Encounters of the Fourth Kind [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456942
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	1. Venus: Cresting

**Author's Note:**

> To clarify any misconceptions or concerns, Murdoc is consenting 100%. To further explain anything confusing, after bonding to Stalien they now share a telepathic link which entitles Stalien to showing his human companion just what he's capable of doing. Also Stalien thinks a bit immaturely, he assumes doing these kinds of things solve a lot of problems.
> 
> This takes place, as the summary states, a week after E.T. my other Stalien x Murdoc one-shot. This story will be a two-shot. (I have a lot of stuff back logged and figure I may as well pump it out so I can focus on the longer AU stories)

Curling on his side, Murdoc groaned into the near flat pillow under him. It stunk of his unwashed hair and sweat. He grimaced and with a grunt rolled onto his back, eyes staring into the void of his childhood room. No matter which side he lay on his mind whirred. He was sure it nearer to one or so in the morning. Not that he had anything pressing that required his attention the next day, or rather _today_ , other than leaving the house before his father rose. 

Running a palm through his already hideously mussed hair, he closed his eyes tight. They burned from lack of sleep and he desperately wanted one restful night. After a minute or two he opened them again, hand thumping the bed in frustration. 

Bringing both hands to his face he scrubbed over the light stubble along his jaw. Lowering one he felt along his neck, fingers brushing the partly healed indents of inhuman teeth marks. Taking a shaky breath he squeezed his eyes shut once more, heart rate increasing. It had been only a week since the strange copulation in the little shack an hour outside town. A week where he barely graced Stalien more than a couple moments of his time here or there. They had gone from being damn near inseparable to him scared of being too close. 

It was ridiculous. 

“What’s wrong with me?” 

Despite his fears, the deep seated terror that snapped out from the inner workings of his mind telling him all the worst things, he missed Stalien. That regardless of his mental rebellion, he craved the cocoon of Stalien’s emotional warmth. He felt lonely without the alien near and hated himself for it. 

Pressing over the bite mark he shivered remembering warm teeth and multiple palms skimming over his flesh. Hovering in the mental imagery he sighed soft and blinked tiredly. He had closed off the mental link almost as soon as he understood what it was, what it meant. Right now he wondered if it remained. 

Swallowing, Murdoc took a deep inhale and forced his body to relax as he exhaled, opening his mind. The invisible walls he sealed himself within eased and with no real idea what he was doing he reached out. Mentally seeking the tendrils of Stalien’s thoughts and feelings that somehow were familiar after only a short time. He frowned upon not sensing anything other than the thump of his own heart. He struggled to feel less of a fool reaching out as he was, not that anyone could see the ordeal. 

“C’mon,” Murdoc muttered. “I know you’re out there idiot. Answer me.”

Brows furrowing deeply, he had a mild moment of panic, worried he had destroyed the one thing most important in his shitty life. Out of nowhere _something_ ethereal grabbed at his psyche, gripping vice like. He winced and clutched at his head when sudden pain bloomed at the front of his brain. As if sensing the discomfort the feeling soothed over into gentle waves of adoration, turning into that recognizable tingle of Stalien’s telepathy. The muscles in his neck, taut, loosened as he sunk into the bed.

**’I have missed you, Murdoc. What did I do to upset you? Whatever it is I’m greatly sorry. I never meant harm.’**

He smirked to himself upon hearing the contraction, pleased a mite at his influence over Stalien, everything else aside. Murdoc sighed out at the rest of the words, leave it to Stalien to assume blame for Murdoc’s broken head and mucked up feelings. As if the alien had done anything wrong. 

**’I’m not mad.’**

**’You have avoided me since we mated, clearly I have done something upsetting.’**

Murdoc hissed audibly and mulled over how to respond. In doing this he absently forgot the alien capable of hearing him think and thus was startled from thought by Stalien answering him. 

**’Oh. You are mad at yourself.’**

**’Don’t read my thoughts.’**

Apologetic mental vibrations rang through his head and he rolled his eyes. He could sense the sorry in his chest, that Stalien was being honest. Strange as it felt, having another voice banging about in his head, Murdoc figured he would grow accustomed. He had no choice, not after his idiotic mistake. 

**’What is bothering you?’**

**’You poking around again?’**

**’No, I can feel it.’** A long pause passed between the link until Stalien spoke again, **’you are tired, I feel that in myself. We can experience one another’s physical feelings, I did mention this. I will try not to prod your mind for answers though.’**

**’Y’mean I could punch myself and you’d feel that?’**

A momentary swarm of panic filled his chest that felt secondary to his mild humour. 

**’If you were present I would-’**

**’What? Tell me not too? I’m not going to punch myself, relax.’**

Murdoc still laughed out loud and quickly attempted to stifle himself, lest his father wake from his drunken slumber. Stalien sent un-amused and baffled feelings through their link. 

**’That is not funny, why are you so amused over self-harm?**

**’I’m not gonna hurt myself, calm down.’**

**’Good. I would be concerned.’**

That particular sensation was entirely new to him. Every time thus far that Stalien had displayed concern or adoration he was thrown, never expecting it. He loathed to admit it made his heart pound and stomach twist with nervous elation. 

**’Can I help you rest?’**

**’What are you capable of doing? It’s fine. Not like I sleep much anyway.’**

He tried to convey sarcasm through their mental link, but he wasn’t entirely sure the sentiment reached Stalien. Not that Stalien fully understood sarcasm to begin with. Murdoc huffed when he realized it was wasted on the alien. 

**’I can help you rest. All you must do is close your eyes. Allow me to help.’**

Murdoc rolled his eyes, put off the other couldn’t see how little he believed. Continuous prompting from Stalien in the form of small mental jabs had him complying. With a snort, he closed his eyes, unsure what the alien would manage yet curious to find out. 

**’Relax Murdoc, keep your eyes closed and let me soothe you.’**

**’Yes, alright. I’m laid here, eyes closed. On with it.’**

Nothing happened at first and Murdoc made to complain until the feeling of his hair being touched reached him. Blinking his eyes open he sat up, looking about in slight panic. Squinting in the dark he saw nothing outlined like his father and patted at his own hair. 

**’My mate, it is okay. I’m doing that. Please rest back. I will not hurt you, it is meant to comfort you.’**

Against his better judgement and common sense, Murdoc slowly lay once more. He gripped at the ratty blanket over him, a nervous energy filling him at the notion Stalien could _do_ something to him over a distance. He had no other reason to trust the alien, but felt swayed with enough mental soothing to breath out and close his eyes yet again. 

It started out gentle, like a hand carding through, petting the mess of dark greasy hair affectionately. Gradually his muscles loosened and he began to lull under the soft touches. It felt real, as though Stalien were there, leaning over him and petting his hair from his face. So long as he kept his eyes shut he could relish the calming gestures, pretend to be lead into sleep. 

**’You are so lovely. My sweet little human.’**

He felt hot breath against his cheek, then his neck and regardless of knowing the other not there he shivered. The temptation to crack his lids open, peek and confirm the absence was almost overwhelming. Somehow he kept them firmly shut.

**’I have missed you,’** Stalien paused and suddenly he felt wide lips against his throat, just above the mark. **’I wish we could be together now, I would care for you properly.’**

Swallowing loudly he grasped at his blankets tightly, sensing a shift from gentle into something more _heated_. He wondered what Stalien considered looking after Murdoc properly as. Stalien’s tone through the link was sultry with an underlying of coyness. The alien whispered through his head, echoing slightly as though it was next to his ear, some sweet nothings; or so he told himself.

**’What are you doing?’**

There came a gentle nip to his ear lobe, thin lips teasing the flesh softly. Immediately his ears began to flush with blood as did his cheeks. Stalien snickered before it felt like the alien was beside his right ear. 

**’Let me show you how much I missed you, Murdoc.’**

Unintentionally he turned his head, pressing that ear to his pillow. Still, his eyes remained closed. Some part of him wanted to see where this went, despite feeling increasingly bashful. 

Wide palms skimmed along his clothed shoulders, almost massaging. He realized shortly it was to ease his tense muscles. He gulped quietly and lowered his arms, relaxing his body some under Stalien’s ministrations. Slowly those ghostly palms moved up over his chest and rubbed at his covered pecks. He had to keep reiterating that Stalien _wasn’t_ there no matter how real it felt. His heart pounded hard and fast as the hands made their way further down his body. Brushing over his hips and down each thigh, stopping at his knees. 

**’My precious human, why not lift your shirt for me? Let me treat you to an experience I know you would enjoy thoroughly.’**

**’What? Why?’**

Murdoc began to sweat at the implications of Stalien’s offer. It was heady request that had his head spinning with what it could potentially mean. Though he questioned how something like whatever he thought it was would even work given Stalien's presence being elsewhere. Stalien sent calming vibes through their link, attempting to assuage Murdoc into settling. He was beginning to think the offer would be an interesting venture should he take it.

**’I promise it won’t hurt, I want to give you something nice. You will like it, I know.’**

Wetting his lips with a long pause, Murdoc mulled over the words, sure he understood what Stalien was suggesting. Sure he knew exactly where the alien was leading this weird session of mental connection to. After a pregnant silence, Murdoc sighed out and pushed the blanket down his body. Despite himself his hands trembled as he lifted his stained grey tee, baring his chest to the darkness of his room. 

He knew he was alone in there, yet kept anxiously thinking of his father stumbling in, discovering him and Stalien. For a minute he felt ridiculous, laying there with his shirt pulled up, tucked under his armpits. 

**’Oh, you lovely human, just like that. Rest and let me take care of you. Let me help you relax.’**

He tried not to jerk in surprise, but still managed to do so when he felt the warmth of four palms touching to his bare chest. Stalien’s larger pair gently rubbed over his sides, tickling his ribs gingerly while his smaller pair skimmed along his stomach. He swallowed thickly and unintentionally found himself leaning into the touches, as though Stalien were there. 

**’There we go, that is it my Murdoc. Enjoy yourself, let me take care of you.’**

His mind felt hazy, as though under some sort of spell, but really was only his burgeoning arousal swarming his senses. He felt fingers rub up over the hardened nubs of his nipples, teasing them softly. Rapidly, heat began to pool in his abdomen and lower. Stalien cooed at him, sharp nails teasing ever so lightly at his skin by his waistline. 

**’Remove your bottom coverings Murdoc, please. I wish to see all of you once more.’**

It was an odd thing for Stalien to say, to see all of him when the alien was absent. 

It came across demanding, as though Stalien meant to leave no opening for denial. Although there was a ‘please’ tacked on, Murdoc sensed the growing eagerness in Stalien. Instead of waiting for the wave of emotional reassurance, he slid his hands downward. His fingers danced along the edge of his own bed clothes before he hooked his thumbs in. Ghostly palms rubbed his hips until he lifted his body some to remove the bottoms, underpants included. 

Utterly bared to the room and cool air he fought down the flight or fight rising up in his chest. He felt incredibly vulnerable lying there, body nude in the room. However, with Stalien's enthusiastic emotions pouring into him through their telepathic link, he felt some excitement. Stalien gave a delighted mental noise. Hands skimmed along his flesh once more, slowing down to run over his bare thighs, two to a leg. He breathed in audibly, suddenly aware of how quickly his arousal was growing. 

**’So lovely. My wonderful human. If only I could touch you for real, run my hands along your skin.’**

Murdoc bit at his lower lip, body becoming flushed with heat. Stalien seemed to give off a smug air through their link. One large hand trailed up, ever so slow and teasing. It danced along his inner thigh until rather suddenly he felt the palm cup over his crotch. Jerking his legs closed did nothing to remove the sensation of the not-there-hand and he felt a low noise work up his throat. It felt like an intensely visceral wet-dream. The hand began to massage, finger tips (thankfully lacking deadly sharp nails) pressed to his scrotum, rubbing. Despite tightly squeezing his legs shut the feeling of being fondled continued. 

“Mh…”

**’You like that?’**

His lips parted, as though he had intended to comment, but the words choked off into a high sounding gasp. He grasped at his bed and had a full body shiver at the feel of fingers brushing over his opening, running around the edges. 

**’Feels nice, does it not? Do you want more?’**

Involuntarily, or so it felt, he nodded his head rapidly. Stalien hummed through their mental link and breath tickled his ear. 

**’Breath in and out Murdoc, relax yourself.’**

Running on autopilot, Murdoc did as he was told, breathing until he relaxed some. It was barely on the last exhale when it felt like two fingers entered him, pressing deeply. All the same sensations of being stretched came with it, but none of the pain or discomfort. Stalien practically purred in his head. 

**’Good, enjoy it, I will take care of you.’**

Murdoc struggled to keep from moaning, instead allowing a muffled noise escape him. The fingers worked in and out faster and faster. Regardless of mentally knowing it all to be fake, his body responded as though it were actually happening. Very slightly he began to rock his body against the sensation, which only increased what he felt. 

“Ah-h!”

The burn and subsequent stretch of a third finger entered and he felt himself spread his legs, as though accommodating a person over him. Stalien rested one hand against his thigh while another fondled his growing erection. It was almost too much, or not enough. 

“So much... Too much- ah.”

**’Roll over my mate, present to me.’**

The phantom hands pulled away and not hesitating to comply, Murdoc rolled onto his stomach. He got his knees under himself and flushed as he spread his legs. Being on his hands and knees felt embarrassingly arousing. He was given an appreciative pat to his bottom for his good behaviour. Soon after the feel of fingers were back, sinking deeply into him and stroking him. He gasped and muffled himself into the musty pillow. Three long fingers worked in and out, soon four. He could feel the heat curling inside him, low in his pelvic region, much like a week ago.

Murdoc shifted himself so he could rest against one arm as he reached between his own legs. Grasping his hot, straining member, he stroked slowly. His thighs tensed at how overwhelmingly sensitive it felt. A drawn out moan was pressed into the pillow as he forced himself to keep rubbing his erection, working through the incredible sparks of pleasure he was getting from the barest of touches. Stalien hummed, a disembodied sound coming from above his head. 

**’Very good Murdoc, keep touching yourself. Ride through the feelings.’**

The fingers disappeared and Murdoc groaned, mild frustration bubbling up. He went to pause his hand movement when a deep growl sounded by his ear. 

**’Keep going. I am not done with you.’**

The mental prompting was firm and Murdoc swallowed a whimper as he kept his hand moving. There were hot spikes of pleasure every pass his fingers made and he struggled not to stop. His legs trembled as he kept his awkward pace, hand stuttering every time he touched the tip. He was leaking excessively, near dripping onto his bedding. 

**’I wonder if you taste differently to my people.’**

Murdoc panted out a garbled response, trying hard to obey the previous demand. Just when he felt he wouldn’t be able to keep going, like his climax was coming up extremely fast, the sensation of an engorged, though thinner, dick slid into him. 

Everything flashed white and he let out no sound as his body was wracked with a hard yet dry orgasm. With his hand on his dick he felt the pulsing, but not the cum. Whining pathetically he sagged some as he came down, hand dropping as he slowly realized Stalien wasn’t finished.

Feelings of a thick member in him made his body, tired from the first orgasm, ramp up again. With a quick motion, the feeling of being fucked hard and fast hit him abruptly. Unintentionally he spread his legs wider, as much as physically possible for him, and took the onslaught. Granted he was utterly still upon his bed. It felt different, not like the first time. The dick felt slicker, more tapered, easier as it pressed in and out quickly. His own dick twitched back to full hardness barely three thrusts in.

**’You take me well, I cannot wait until you can take both of me.’**

In the jumble of his mind, buried under a relentless battering of pleasure, Murdoc wondered what the alien meant. Instead of lingering on the thought, he focused on chasing the second orgasm building in him. Buried in him was the desire to be craved, to be utterly adored, but along with it trailed the feelings of a deep need to be wrecked. To be sullied and used. No matter the good intentions, though he felt this benefited Stalien in some form, he found this strange form of sexual intimacy absolutely filthy, almost degrading. 

There was no one there other than a voice in his head and invisible hands holding his side, his dick, pinching at a nipple or groping at his messy hair. It was too much, yet he allowed himself further down, sinking into the bed some. The sensation of his body being fucked within an inch of his life was heavenly and the build up in his nether region was increasing exponentially. 

Mouth agape, pressed half to the pillow with a slight pool of drool dampening the fabric, Murdoc gasped softly. His breath came in short pants as the pace picked up. He faintly felt the warmth of a hand stroking his renewed erection, rubbing at the slick tip almost harshly. His fingers were cramping at how desperately he clung to his bedding. 

**’Your mind begs for it. You enjoy being taken… to be _used_?’**

His only legible response was to groan and prop his backside up, arching his back near painfully. The angle didn’t matter because the phantom member continued to batter his insides almost relentlessly.

**’You like being mine? Do you?’**

The possessive edge to Stalien’s voice was the tipping factor and instead of verbalizing anything, other than an embarrassingly loud moan, Murdoc’s mind shot back numerous yes’s. Through the haze of a second orgasm, brought on nearly too soon after the first, Murdoc sensed more than heard the elated reaction from Stalien. 

For a dizzying moment, Murdoc remained there, still partially propped up and shaking. He tilted his head some to allow needed oxygen back into his system with a large gulp of air. The motion had his body soon follow suit as he flopped onto his side with a huff. His eyes had adjusted well enough he could spot the darker patch where his spunk pooled. 

**’You can sleep now?’**

Sleep was the furthest thing from his mind in that instant. Sitting upright, arms and body like jell-o, Murdoc patted around for his clothing. 

**What is Murdoc doing? Are you not tired now?’**

Avoiding a verbal answer, he felt the urge every time the alien spoke mentally, Murdoc yanked on his bottoms. Stumbling off the bed and making a thump, Murdoc paused and listened for stirrings of his drunken father. He was mildly surprised the man hadn’t roused despite his moaning like a whore just minutes prior. 

**’You are worrying me. What are you doing?’**

Murdoc felt around for the half broken dresser across the room. It was missing two drawers, but he tended to pile dirty and even filthier clothes together in the empty space below the drawers still in the furniture. Halfway into a shirt his winced at the hard prompting filtering through his mind. 

**’Quit that! I’m dressing.’**

**’Why? Have I done something wrong? You seem… anxious’**

Rubbing at the front of his head, Murdoc grunted. 

“Stupid alien.”

With a deep breath he closed his eyes, mental blockade going up and shutting Stalien out yet again. He could weigh the concerns with doing that willy nilly or how it was probably extremely distressing to Stalien at a later point. 

Mind now clear he took stock of his person, surprised to find no discomfort or lingering sensations. Patting his body over he frowned in thought. It was strange how everything had felt so _real_ , yet now it was like a dream. Holding his questions until he could see Stalien, Murdoc rushed around the room in the dark. Yanking a ratty coat on he hissed upon bashing his calf on his bed. Cursing angrily he got on all fours, shifting papers, records and clothes around in search of socks.

Any pretense of being quiet flew out his mind when he finally, and miraculously, found socks. Slipping them on and grabbing the beat up boots near his bedroom door he opened the door only to come face to face with his half-drunk father. Momentary fear and panic swarmed in his chest, replacing the last tingles of excitement and pleasure. With the swell of anxiety came the instant rush of thoughts. Unintentionally, or maybe as a knee-jerk reaction, Murdoc dropped his mental barrier with the actual step back he took. 

Swallowing and attempting to come across less startled than he was, after all he was a grown man and his father could fuck off for all he cared. 

“What’re you doin’ up?”

If his voice wobbled nobody pointed it out. Thankfully.

“Fucking woke me, what’re you up to in here?”

“Nothing.”

**’Murdoc?’**

A trickle of nervous energy ran from the back of his neck down to his toes. He knew Stalien was in his head and not out loud, but still jerked upon hearing the alien. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, watching him in the dim light of the hall. 

Murdoc aimed for irritated when he pushed past his father hastily, assured the man too drunk to throw a bottle. He hopped as he roughly shoved a foot into one boot. Sebastian made a small, nearly inaudible, noise when he turned. 

“Where’re you off to?”

“None of your business.” 

For the following couple of seconds he heard nothing from behind him. He stomped into his second boot and made for the stairs. Reaching the second step, Murdoc heard the unexpected sound of hurried footfalls in the hall. He felt the hair on the back of his neck raise as he pivoted partly. 

Momentarily he came, once more, face to face with Sebastian. In the next instant he felt unimaginable pain crack across his cheek as the world tilted. With a confused couple yelps he landed in a heap at the base of the wooden steps. The jumble of surprise, pain and terror went out in all directions through the mental link.

**’Murdoc? You are hurt! What happened?’**

The heavy sound of Sebastian stomping down the stairs brought him out of the daze, enough so to look over. Blearily he caught the cold, hefty bottle of rum in one gnarly hand, damaged on its side. He glanced up to the older man, cheek swelling rapidly. 

“What’d ye’ say to me?”

Scooting back, Murdoc grimaced at dull pain turning to a sharp ache all over. The older man loomed over him making him feel small, insignificant. Like a child. Words failed him and he lowered his gaze to the rum bottle. He flinched when Sebastian swayed as though to hit him again. The man smirked and stepped around his prone figure. 

“S’what I thought.”

In the moments following the altercation he forced his fear paralyzed body up and shuffled out of the house. His shoulder ached something fierce and there was a slight limp to his gait, but he pushed on. Rushing through town he followed the path he had memorized. If the world around him, dark already, became blurry at the edges, he ignored it. His smarting cheek burned, a painful reminder of how much he hated his father, his home.

It took him a decent amount of time with the sting in his hip and thigh, but when he reached the familiar cluster of trees he stopped. The sky was clear enough to show him all the stars above and for a minute he wished he was somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

Furiously wiping at his eyes he stood at the crest of the hill that lead into the trees. Squinting, he could barely make out more than indiscernible shapes. His hesitation had brought Stalien into view, the alien coming out to greet him. In the moonlight the freckles on him seemed to glow, but he might have been seeing things with the wetness in his eyes. 

“Murdoc?”

“Shouldn’t be out,” he muttered brokenly.

The alien came closer, towering over him in a manner that somehow never felt threatening the way it did with his father. Four hands were quick to come to his face and shoulders, fingers gingerly touching the inflammation forming on his face. With the skin on skin contact there was a small spark of connection, softer than the previous times. With the transference came emotions of anger, directed elsewhere, concern and affection. The last one had him sniffing sharply, eyes filling again, threatening to spill. Leaning into Stalien he buried his face into the alien’s lower chest, hands clutching to the grey material. 

“You safe with me.” 

Three arms encircled his smaller form and held him close. One hand combed through his mess of hair. For once he actually believed that. If only for a moment.


	2. Venus Waning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murdoc can't make sense of his messed up head and Stalien is constantly horny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18+ themes
> 
> TW: inter-species sex, graphic descriptions of alien anatomy.

Stalien was physically stronger than him. A given seeing as the alien was seven feet tall. However, it never ceased to startle Murdoc how easily the extraterrestrial could man-handle him off his feet. 

Under any other circumstances, Murdoc would have complained loudly about being hefted up into Stalien’s arms. The sensation was odd and he couldn’t recall a time someone, anyone, had picked him up with so much care. Stalien cradled his body close, two arms holding him up. Soft, thin lips pressed a kiss to the unmarred cheek; with it a spark of adoration tingled across his person soothing the whirls of emotions he was experiencing, only a little. A third arm settled along his lower back to steady him. It was strange to Murdoc, being carried like a child. Instead of fighting it he sagged into the alien’s shoulder. The last palm combed through his hair carefully, petting ever so sweetly and attempting to tame the mess. 

Had he paid any mind to his thoughts, and remembered their mental connection, he would have staved off his desperation. Seeking comfort, to be held and reaching out mentally for that affection would be embarrassing to admit. Murdoc had no idea that his mind was supplying Stalien with images or words, or maybe he did and this was easier to do than verbally asking. For now he assumed the alien miraculously adept and that was good enough for him.

Stalien migrated, with Murdoc in hand, to the shack. The alien ever so carefully managed his way inside. It was darker within than out, and in no way insulated from the growing cold. Thankfully tucked against Stalien, Murdoc barely felt much. Murdoc rested his unbruised cheek against the grey shoulder, sighing tiredly. Stalien’s fingers barely paused, almost massaging his pounding head. He keened into genuine affection eagerly, but would deny it later should it be brought up.

They were quickly situated on the sloping bed, moonlight barely streaming into the dark between the covering on the little window. It was only then and there that he realized Stalien _was_ glowing in spots. He was far too tired to ask about it and instead rested against the large chest. For a while they breathed quietly, listening to one another. Murdoc felt Stalien shift beneath him and a hand, nails retracted, ever so softly brushed a stray tear from his face. He didn’t have the strength to pull away nor the energy to hide it. Stalien rubbed a thumb over the shell of his ear, seemingly unsure how to comfort Murdoc. 

“How feel?” 

He appreciated Stalien verbalizing instead of prodding his mind.

“Sore.”

One hand brushed hair away from his forehead and face. Murdoc spared a brief glance to Stalien, momentarily startled to see tiny glowing specks in his dark orbs. The specks clustered closer together when they focused on Murdoc’s face. 

“What wrong?” 

“Are those meant to be your pupils?” He gestured to his own eyes in question, momentarily distracted by the discovery.

Stalien cocked his head slightly, patterned brows pinching in mild confusion. 

“What is… What mean?”

“The glowy dots. They your pupils? How you’re meant to see?” 

Stalien blinked and very subtly frowned, as though considering his answer. Murdoc continued to watch the alien’s features. His eyes scanned the foreign features with far more intrigue than before. He had examined Stalien’s face many times in the past, but only during the day. At night the alien seemed alight with a smattering of glowing patches, the markings nearly emitting a fuzzy hue like a neon sign. He trailed his eyes back to Stalien’s odd patterned brows, watching fascinated as they smoothed out. It was a welcome distraction to the throbbing in his face and body. 

“Yes? Think so.”

“Think so?” Stalien turned his attention to Murdoc once more, or at least it seemed so. It was difficult to tell with the lack of obvious pupils. “Er, I’ll take your word for it.”

“Murdoc okay? Left fast after, worried I hurt.” 

At the inquiring of his reason for being here now, Murdoc flushed a deep red and cleared his throat. His original plans had been to leave, without being caught, and demand Stalien explain properly what the scope of their connection meant.

Technically he could still ask, but with the dull ache ringing through his head, Murdoc just wanted to drink the pain away. Ease the edge of his discomfort rather than dredge up more. 

“I ask too much?”

“Yeah,” he huffed in answer. “Leave it be.”

Stalien exhaled and pressed his thin lips together, all the while Murdoc observed quietly. He found those lips interesting, larger than his own and spotted, but sweet to kiss. 

“It good though? The fun stuff?”

“What?” Murdoc drew his eyes back to the oddly galaxy flecked eyes once more. He ran over the words in his head, frowning the more he tried to decipher the broken english. 

“Sex. The sex Murdoc.”

“Sex? What the hell was all that? It felt bloody real, and fantastic of course, but what- how?”

Hands came up and Murdoc grunted when the alien cupped his face. 

**‘That is part of our connection, it allows us to feel and emit physical feelings like touch and sound. A sort of telekinetic sensation.’**

Murdoc shifted to rearrange himself on Stalien so he was essentially straddling the firm navel region, or what he assumed was Stalien’s navel given the alien had no belly button. Two arms settled around his waist comfortably. Despite his reservations about sharing thoughts, Murdoc took a deep breath and forced his nerves down enough to converse. 

**‘Okay, so my earlier question still stands, physical harm to my person will be felt by you?’**

**‘Not quite, you have to project the sensation like a thought.’**

A bloom of confusion filled their mental connection and Stalien squinted his eyes in amusement. Murdoc narrowed his own in mild irritation. 

**‘Allow me to share an example.’**

A minute of silence passed between them where he sat there waiting for something to happen. At first it was very subtle, a hand ghosting over his thigh, thumb pressed to his inner thigh. His eyes trailed the phantom hand, but saw nothing. He stared at the spot, the invisible palm had paused, willing it into sight. It remained nonexistent. 

**‘It’s rather common on my planet to use our mental capabilities to entice our mate.’**

**‘Yeah, I kinda got that impression.’**

The palm continued its journey up his thigh, dipping between his spread legs to press over his crotch lightly. He shifted and cleared his throat awkwardly. 

**‘Oi, I think you made your point Freckles.’**

Near immediately the ghost palm vanished and Murdoc relaxed. Stalien brought him to the present by suddenly bringing his face, still being held in large hands, closer. Spotted lips sealed over his eagerly and still rather sloppily. His mind swirled with sudden lewd imagery, coating his brain in a fog of arousal shooting off like electrical sparks. 

Any other time he would have returned the excited kissing, but the dull throbbing in his head and aches in his body refuted the idea. He pushed on Stalien’s chest to break their kissing, and thus ending the strong sexual interest swimming around in his head. He lightly wiped his mouth with a sleeve and eyed Stalien. The bewildered look reminded him of a small child upset with the loss of a toy. 

“Really not in the mood.”

**‘Would sex not help?’**

“No.” He deadpanned. Stalien looked put off so Murdoc continued, “let’s sleep, yeah? You can jump my bones tomorrow, horny bugger.”

**‘Ah, yes. Sleep is important to humans. I still do not understand why you sleep for so long though.’**

Shoving at Stalien’s chest, urging the seven foot alien in a silent demand to lay back, Murdoc rolled his eyes at the mental nattering. It took a couple more pushes before Stalien laid out, feet dangling off the sloping bed. He rearranged himself atop the alien and sighed heavily. Laying his head, good side down, against the broad chest he resolutely shut his eyes hoping to sleep.

For a while there was a peaceful quietness about the shack. He could hear the rythmic thumping of two hearts or possibly one large one under him. The beat gave him something to focus on, enough to feel his mind slipping into blissful darkness. 

Before his mind faded to sleep he felt the faint sensation of Stalien feeding his mind soft thoughts, blanketing any negativity down.

\-------------------

Warm hands were running along his body, under his shirt and along his back. Fingers dipped into his spine, teasing gently as they continued downwards to the rise of his backside. He hummed softly, half asleep and enjoying the pleasant attention. A palm skimmed over his bottom, only pausing to give it an appreciative squeeze before it continued. He felt the fingers dip between his legs and pressing up against the fabric of his jeans.. 

He kept his eyes closed, floating between half aware and half asleep, partly unsure if the sensations were real. The hand paused where it was and began rubbing somewhat firmly. 

The feeling was acute, rousing his mind from his sort of sleep, enough to have him open his eyes groggily. He blinked, vision a bit bleary as he peered around the dimly lit space. A warm palm grasped his left hand. 

**‘Morning my mate. Did you sleep well?’**

He groaned. “Sure.”

There were three palms touching along his body and now that he was awake he could feel it. One was fussing with his hair softly while a second one ran along his back. Lastly there was an insistent rubbing to his crotch from behind. That palm made him squirm and he moved partly to alleviate some pressure. 

“Er, are you having fun there?”

**‘You mentioned I could, and I quote, “jump your bones”, today.’**

Murdoc gave a half amused huff as he shifted from the hands to awkwardly land onto the ground. He nearly toppled when he got a rush of blood, but Stalien graciously assisted him. 

**‘Was I wrong to assume?’**

“Yeah mate, I’m not really feeling it this morning either.” 

**‘My apologies Murdoc, I did not mean… How are you feeling? Your head feels heavy.’**

With a small grunt, Murdoc shoved Stalien’s leg inwards and sat on the cleared spot. He held his head with a sigh as the pounding from the night before slowly filtered in as if it had not left. Stalien shifted, enough to shake the small wonky bed, and appeared leaning in his face from the side. 

**‘I can help.’**

Murdoc chuckled, immediately recognizing the three words the alien had said last night, which lead to him being here now. He was beginning to think Stalien’s only modes were horny or blank as a wall.

“Oh yeah? Does that include fucking me with your magic ghost hands again? Or have you got some hard liquor?”

Stalien squinted in confusion. “No, my mate. I can take hurt away.”

Murdoc eyed the alien, clear skepticism on his face. Stalien gave him a small, if a bit awkward, smile. 

“Not only can I do ghost hands, but I ease pain.”

Murdoc tilted his head up and he eyed his alien partner, a light frown falling over his features. The alien appeared restless as he moved, wiggling the bed, which protested weakly. 

“Allow me?” 

Murdoc sighed, tired and aching. His body felt leaden with pain from the previous night's unfortunate altercation. He could imagine his face looked horrid with purple bruising. It sure felt like it. His eyes focused on the mostly harmless hand reaching for one of his own hands.

“Please?”

He inhaled and forced the unnerved tension from his body. A small thought wiggled to the forefront of his mind, one that informed him that Stalien probably knew he was uncomfortable; he despised his incessant need to feel continuously anxious over every situation. No matter his true feelings he shoved the thought away far into the back of his head. If Stalien did not mention it, he would not either. Pretending was far easier if both parties agreed to it silently.

“Yeah go ahead then.”

The large pink palm reached further until it covered his hand, which was clutching at his jeans. The longer the hand stayed however, the more he felt the tension drain from him, as though seeping from his pores like sweat. He exhaled as his thoughts calmed and his body relaxed. The taut line of muscles in his neck and shoulders eased and he breathed easier. 

**‘Relax your mind my mate, allow me to sooth your pain away.’**

His voice seemed far from him, echoing across a vast distance, barely tickling at his ears. He almost didn’t notice his body being maneuvered up the bed and laid out in a comfortable position. Stalien pressed to his side and fed him a mix of contentment and a hazy blur of pain relief. He felt stoned.

**‘How is that? Much better, right?’**

There was a faint noise, a hum, which came from him. He hoped it was understood how pleasant the fog of ease felt. Stalien gave him a gentle smile while brushing his thick bangs back. In any other situation he may have lashed out at the gesture, for unknown reasons, but with the weird lull in his person he barely batted an eye.

 **‘You are lovely Murdoc, you have wonderful features. Like your brows, they are always so hidden. When you emote I can barely read your physical tells. However, this bond has given me a deep insight into your person and I appreciate it.’** There was a pause where Murdoc felt a sensation of warm affection that spread throughout him. **‘Being able to see you has helped me understand your behaviours.’**

He wanted to panic. This was far too emotionally invested and he was too sober. There was a tiny noise of discomfort that escaped him as he began fighting the mental fug clouding his brain. Stalien blinked, startled, and let up on the soothing. Immediately his mind pulled back to the present and Murdoc sat up rapidly, heart in throat. He combed his hair back in place, flustered and upset at himself. 

“Don’t do that shit,” he inhaled sharply. 

**‘I have upset you? I am greatly sorry.’**

“No.” Murdoc avoided looking at the alien. “No, it’s… it’s fine. Forget it.” 

Stalien brushed his fingers at Murdoc’s shoulder and he jerked. The alien pulled back and blinked owlishly, clear confusion painted across the usually expressionless face. Murdoc swallowed and turned away, nervous to see the other’s face.

**‘I did not mean to upset you Murdoc.’**

Guilt started to bubble up, conflicting with his current panic over, well, his emotions. Murdoc wanted to hit himself for how frustratingly up and down he was over something as simple as a compliment or comment about their budding relationship. If he could continue to call it that.

“You didn’t, haven’t. It’s me.”

The alien still appeared perplexed, but he smoothed his features out into a neutral face and the emotional connection and feelings dwindled to a soft hum of affection. Murdoc felt his heart rate ease as the tension slowly drained from his shoulders. Murdoc would rather dive into the thames than circle in on his reaction just now so he cleared his throat, quick to rise from the small bed. Stalien watched him quietly, a small spark of concern clear in his four sparkly eyes. 

Looking away from the alien, Murdoc swallowed thickly, his nerves still far too frayed from the moment to sooth the other. He stretched and winced immediately at the sharp line of pain that ran up his side from the fall yesterday night. He knew Stalien knew it too, but thankfully he remained mute on the pain.

“I’m going to the pub.”

There was a small abortive noise from Stalien, and Murdoc hesitated, wary yet silently hopeful to be stopped. Going to the pub meant drinking himself silly and then going home to the old codger that just pummeled him last night. It meant being alone and miserable.

“Stay Murdoc?”

Murdoc still fought having nice things and walked to the door determined. 

“Please,” Stalien pleaded, also standing. “Stay, keep me company.”

His hand was on the rusted door handle, gripping it with unnecessary force. He realized he was clenching his jaw and pushed himself to calm and ease up.

“You really want me as company? I’m a bloody bag of live wires right now, can’t be all that fun.”

**‘You do not need to do anything other than stay. I get so lonely here.’**

Guilt bubbled up once more, but for a different reason. Murdoc sighed. He had never taken into consideration the solitude the alien must have felt day in and day out. He resolved himself to suffer through his mild embarrassment from earlier. Pivoting on the spot he clapped his hands. 

“Fine, yes.”

He sat heavily on the bed, listening as it waned dangerously. Stalien crouched until kneeling in front of Murdoc, his main set of hands coming down on Murdoc’s thighs gingerly. He drew his eyes from palms to four eyes, seemingly focused on him. 

“What?”

**‘Allow me to take your mind off things.’**

Murdoc gave him a grunt. “Is sex all you think about?”

Any other time and he would be all over the very notion of sex. He was emotionally exhausted and the aches in his hips, back and side said sex was not a good option. 

**‘No, I was suggesting discussion. We could talk about our homes? You tell me about Earth and I tell you about Nee’t?’**

A warm flush rose to Murdoc’s cheeks upon realizing how quickly he jumped the gun on assuming it was about sex. He cleared his throat a little awkwardly. 

“Yeah, sure. Not much else to do,” he muttered.

Stalien gave him a bright smile and stood in one fluid motion. In a matter of moments he found himself being manhandled, yet again, to be arranged atop Stalien. The position was not dissimilar to how they were last night. Although Stalien seemed pleased, Murdoc huffed and shifted off to lay against the alien’s side instead. 

“I can’t breathe like that.” 

**‘Oh, apologies, I assumed because of last-’**

“Yes okay,” Murdoc cut across the mental speech. “Let’s play questions then, no more dawdling.”

**‘I may go first?’**

Murdoc grumbled, “yes, why else would I bring it up?”

Stalien made a small snorting noise similar to a horse huffing out through its nose. It was a sign the alien was annoyed with him. Murdoc decided then and there to beat the other to the punch.

“Why haven’t you got bollocks? I noticed the other day.”

There was a small sputtering noise as Stalien mulled over the word, digging through Murdoc’s mind for the translation. He smirked, mildly satisfied and amused by the struggle. It was helping alleviate his earlier discomfort.

**‘Scrotum, that is the weird little fleshy sac under your penis, yes?’**

“Yes,” Murdoc wheezed, trying hard not to outright laugh. 

**‘Well we do not need one? I have no clue what your scrotum does.’**

“Allows me to have fun and blow my load.”

Hand holding his side a bit as he shook with laughter, Murdoc peered at Stalien through slitted eyes. The minor hilarity was amped up by the befuddled expression on the patterned face. 

**‘Your human euphemisms are incredibly confusing. I assume that means to… cum?’**

Gripping his side a little harder to stave off his pain, Murdoc gasped out a yes as the giggling tapered off into deep breathing. 

**‘We have internal scrotums then. There is no room beneath my primary to host an external sac, it would block my secondary.’**

Stalien shifted to lay on his side. Murdoc coughed and turned his head up some to look at Stalien properly. 

“What exactly does that mean?”

 **‘Ah, you already asked. My turn.’** Murdoc rolled his eyes. Stalien waited, but when no snide comments came he smiled slightly. **‘Do all humans look like you?’**

For an instant Murdoc was struck by the peculiar question. However, he rapidly came to the realization that the extraterrestrial had yet to see other humans aside himself. He was momentarily curious if he should boast about himself. His crippling self-doubt immediately took hold and he felt his words catch in his throat. 

**‘Have I said something wrong?’**

“No,” he exhaled. “No. Humans do not look like me. I’m the only me that looks like… me.”

Stalien gave him a strange little breathy chirp sound and leaned down to kiss his forehead. A little trickle of warmth shot through him at the gesture and Murdoc was quick to shove it away. 

“What’s it mean when you say primary and secondary?” Best not think about what that little blip was. 

**‘I mean my penises. My primary and secondary. My turn again! What is your language called?’**

Murdoc reeled, sitting up hastily. His voice came out a conspiratorial whisper, as though someone may be listening, while leaning close to the alien, “two? You have two cocks?”

Stalien blinked curiously at him. **‘Yes? Do full-males on your planet not have two penises?’**

“What the fuck? No, of course not! Well, not that I’m aware, I think I would know. Show me!”

The alien cleared their throat and made a slight chuckling noise, though it sounded more like him clicking his tongues. **‘Now you are interested in sex?’**

“No!” Murdoc patted Stalien’s body over, some part of him eager to see what two dicks looked like, another part of him utterly stunned. So stunned in fact that he felt it necessary to grope his alien partner between the legs. “I don’t feel two.”

**‘Oh stars, you do that enough and I will be aroused.’**

“Was that a one-liner? Did you just attempt to flirt?” Murdoc grinned at Stalien, hand comfortably cupped against the large appendage in the uniform. It was beginning to harden under his palm and despite his earlier claims, Murdoc felt slight heat rise to his face.

An embarrassed huff escaped Stalien as he shifted away, flopping flat onto his back. **‘You wish to see? Then I want to see you without clothes as well.’**

Murdoc pulled his arm back when the alien moved. He peered at the other with narrowed eyes, well aware where Stalien was attempting to direct the interaction. Regardless, Murdoc shucked his coat in one smooth movement and tugged at the hem of his shirt. Stalien perked up, eyeing him intently.

“Deal.”

**‘Everything.’**

“Yeah, I got that,” Murdoc winced, carefully pulling the shirt over his head. “Usually what one means when they say ‘without clothes’, but far be it for me to get into semantics.”

Stalien was sitting up partially once his shirt was off. He tried to ignore the warm buzz of energy and excitement pooling in his gut as he started to work his boots off next. As he undid his belt a shiver of arousal tickled across their bond. He glanced, as casually as he could, towards Stalien’s crotch. The alien had grown harder, which didn’t surprise him one bit. Standing from the bed he shoved the jeans down and stepped from them. He halted there with his underpants still firmly in place. 

“Well?”

“Well?” Stalien parroted. 

“Take your clothes off. I won’t be the only idiot naked here.”

**‘Oh! Yes, my apologies.’**

The alien closed his eyes and willed the particles of the nano-textile away easily. Completely naked, patterned pink skin fully on display and relaxing back against the bed, Stalien looked every bit as attractive as the first time he laid eyes on him without disguise. Swallowing tightly, Murdoc hurried to remove the last article and sit on the bed once more. The alien’s erection was standing at attention, also every bit as eye catching and daunting in size as the first time. His breath caught in his throat a little when he gawked for too long. 

**‘Lovely little human, you look good without coverings.’**

Murdoc tried to avoid expressing distaste at the comment while finally looking up. There was nothing good about him. To start a new conversation he settled between large pink thighs and pushed them apart firmly. 

“I don’t see a second dick.”

**‘Impatient. It normally only comes out during mating to bond with a full-female as it creates pleasure to counteract the oftentimes unpleasant impregnation process.’**

Murdoc blinked rapidly. “I’m sorry, what?”

**‘It can be coaxed out or brought out when aroused.’**

“No, no, I meant the other thing about impregnating...and the other crap.”

Stalien gave a great sigh and leaned up some. One of his large palms grasped Murdoc’s hand, which rested upon a pink thigh, and guided it down to the crux of Stalien’s body. 

**‘Just rub at the opening.’**

Murdoc became quiet, eyes sliding to the location Stalien meant. There were folds of deep pink and purple hidden just beneath the larger erect penis. He made a slight face of unease as his fingers were moved to rub over the soft flesh. Near immediately a thinner, and very slick, cock emerged, parting the folds easily. It shifted against his palm, nearly slithering as it fully extended into his hand. 

“Oh holy fuck, what?” Murdoc blurted. 

**‘That is my secondary.’**

“It moves!” 

A second hand moved in and rubbed along the slicked side of the smaller erection. Murdoc watched raptly. Although his earlier proclamations of no sex lingered in the air, he felt an embarrassingly fast building interest the longer he watched the smaller dick; which was still big by comparison to his own. He cleared his throat and waited patiently for Stalien to lead into asking again. He hoped he was exuding his interest in their bond well enough.

Stalien hummed.

**‘May I touch you? I think you might like the feeling, I did use it before.’**

Murdoc glanced from the other’s face to the hand nearer to his own crotch covered in slick. It took a moment of grinding gears before his mental faculties caught up to what Stalien meant about before. The lubrication.

“Yeah.”

**‘You are sure?’**

Murdoc sifted through his memories to play through some from their first coupling, how intense and heated the moments were up until he realized his folly about the bond. Stalien clearing his throat brought him to the present.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

He looked to the slick erection, still cupped in his palm, and closed his fingers around it to halt its movement. It felt intensely weird and firm, but still pliable. Stalien made a small noise as fingers ghosted along Murdoc’s dick and left slick over the skin. He sniffed and squirmed slightly at the sensation. 

Once the hand moved away he noticed an immediate change, his dick began tingling pleasantly. He flushed partly when he began to harden under the sensation. 

**‘How does your body feel?’**

“Er,” Murdoc unhelpfully supplied. “Tingly?”

The alien hummed in acknowledgement. 

**‘It feels better with friction.’**

Murdoc gasped when a big palm encased his partially hardened dick and began to pump slowly. Both his own hands moved, one covered in slick, to grip at Stalien’s thighs. The tingle turned into a hot burn of pleasure as the hand kept stroking, spreading the slick along his dick. He bit at his lip to keep from outright moaning and hunched slightly, legs becoming stiff to halt movement. 

**‘That feels good, yes?’**

He swallowed, unable to verbalize. 

**‘My wonderful little human, how about you climb up, make yourself comfortable.’**

He laughed shakily. “It figures you’d catch on.”

**‘Hm, you were quite loud about it with your emotions just now. You make such a lovely mate, I will do all the work, I promise.’**

Stalien hummed in a pleased way, clearly tickled pink that Murdoc was complying. He moved, slow and more like a crawl as he slid up onto Stalien. He let a soft huff of air escape when he brushed against the alien’s erect cock. 

**‘You look gorgeous sitting on me.’**

“Your dirty talk could use some work,” Murdoc teased, “guess, I’ll take what I can get. At least you're pretty.”

Stalien gave him a still awkward smile, still not used to the action, and ran his four hands along Murdoc’s body. He had lingering aches in his hips and shoulder from the staircase, but he could feel them fading into the background. There was a feathery light pressure of Stalien’s mental cushion gently smothering his pains and this time Murdoc welcomed it wholeheartedly. The alien shifted and carefully maneuvered them around until he could press Murdoc to the musty bed. A small thrill ran up his spine at having the large body caging him to the bed. 

**‘Relax and allow me to give you pleasure, I will make it wonderful for you.’**

“Christ,” Murdoc snickered, unable to stop himself. “If you keep talking like that I’m going to go flaccid. How ‘bout you just get on with it love, I’m already eager and willing. No need to butter me up.”

Stalien understood the urging more so than the rest of Murdoc’s comments and ran his smaller set of hands over warm thighs. Cupping under the knees, the alien spread Murdoc and rested the limbs at Stalien’s sides. The somewhat steep angle his back was being curved made Murdoc wince. He knew following the coupling his back and hips would be in agony. 

“Er,” Murdoc grunted, which drew Stalien’s attention from positioning himself. “This isn’t gonna work Spots, you’ll leave me worse for wear.”

Not to mention the intimidating girth of the larger dick which had left Murdoc limping for nearly two days after their first time. Stalien cocked his head and looked down the length of their bodies and hummed softly.

**‘You are right, this looks rather uncomfortable. I can fix this.’**

Wrongly assuming Stalien would gather the ratty pillows on the bed, for back support, he gave a surprised noise being manhandled onto his hands and knees. The alien grabbed the pillows and slotted them under his hips instead and gently pressed on his head. 

**‘Lower yourself, like last night.’**

A hot shock ran through his body and straight into his dick as he found himself obeying, burying his face partly into the dirty sheets. It wasn’t overly comfortable for his back, or his knees, but he would endure if things ended similarly to the night prior. His backside was given an appreciative pat and rub as Stalien smoothed a hand over the curve of his ass cheek.

**‘Humans have such interesting and almost similar anatomy.’**

Murdoc didn’t know what to say to that so he remained quiet. He let himself get swept up in the gentle sensations of hands rubbing his backside, almost feeling him up. 

**‘I’m going to leave you gasping Murdoc.’**

Without meaning to his breath hitched. He felt the alien shift and crawl over him, pressing his chest to Murdoc’s back. Hot breath settled over his exposed ear. He didn’t want to admit how insanely thrilling it was being so utterly at the creature’s mercy, almost like a sick little fantasy. 

Two hands ran along his sides and one stopped at his hip, massaging the bone and skin lightly. The other hand trailed further and paused at his backside, groping at the cheek it had pet earlier and spreading it partly. He bit at his bottom lip, anticipation building. He felt the tapered tip of the smaller dick, twitching against his opening, rubbing slick against it. It was warm and quite quickly the sensitive skin at his anus began to tingle pleasantly. 

**‘Relax, my mate.’**

He breathed out heavily against the blanket. The tip pressed into him almost teasingly, slowly working him open. It was a decidedly odd feeling, like a wiggly finger that was lubed up. He continued to breath out, relaxing his body as much as the position allowed. With each breath he took, Stalien pressed further, hips twitching slightly as though he was restraining from ramming home. 

Murdoc both appreciated and loathed how slow the alien was moving. Annoyed he huffed and worked himself back onto Stalien. Two things happened: one the friction brought intense pleasure that bordered on too much and Stalien growled low in his throat, right near Murdoc’s ear. 

**‘Impatient.’**

“Yeah,” he exhaled shakily, “yeah I am. You’ve got me where yeah want me, so fuck me.”

Stalien grunted and held Murdoc’s hips firmly. He could yell with the stop and go, he wanted to feel that sensation again. 

**‘Are you submitting to me?’**

“Yes, please, just move before I grow old here.”

He received another deep, chest rumbling growl as Stalien pulled part way out. Murdoc was about to comment when there was a hesitation, but his words choked off into a muffled groan. Stalien thrusted firmly and seated himself nearly to the base. It was a lot and the burn of arousal sitting in his abdomen became sharper, radiating out as the alien continued. The pace was rougher than their first time and left him a little breathless. 

Continued friction brought the white hot pleasure from the secretions coating Stalien’s cock. He gripped at the bedding, surprised how quickly it reduced him to pants and gasps. He closed his eyes, desperately clinging to the musty blanket in some pathetic attempt to ground himself in reality, but the sensation shot through him with each thrust. 

“N-nh...nhh!” 

He wouldn’t last long at this rate, he could feel it building, molten and hot as it sat in his nether region. His dick bobbed, hard and leaking, into the pillows supporting him. The very slight rub of the scratchy fabric only lended to his impending orgasm. Stalien gave a slight huff with his effort to keep a hard pace. 

**‘You take me well. Should I fill your head with other thoughts to help you along?’**

He gave a weak cry of surprise when the phantom sensations from the other night returned, palms teasing along his flushed skin at his sides and stomach. Stalien nuzzled into his sweaty neck and purred disjointedly into his skin. 

**‘How much can you take? I can feel it building in you.’**

Murdoc knew the alien could feel it and was probably relishing in his pleasure that he was wringing from his sore body. The aches were muddled under the intensity of his arousal, which was momentary. Phantom hands cupped over his balls, squeezing softly and fondling them. 

“F-fuck,” he groaned into the bed. 

He could feel a secondary excitement to his own, reverberating through their mental link. Stalien was getting close himself and Murdoc wondered faintly who would get their first.

Ghost fingers found his nipples and pinched and rubbed at them, bringing them to attention. That’s all it took for him to be pushed completely over the edge. Murdoc moaned when he felt the crushing heat of his orgasm rush over him hard and fast like a tidal wave. Everything faded into a haze of a pleasurable high as his body shook with the force of his orgasm. He barely felt his partner cum, deeply seated in his body. 

**‘Such a good mate.’**

Reality began to bleed back into the forefront of his mind. He felt soft lips kissing at his pulse and jaw. He was moved, slow and carefully, onto his back. Stalien leaned over him and pet his sweat slicked greasy hair from his face to look at him in mild concern. 

**‘Too much?’**

His mouth worked, but all his tired brain managed to form was a small noise of content. 

**‘How are you feeling? You feel a bit distant, as though you will pass out.’**

He gave the alien a thumbs up. “S’good.”

Relief filled the bond and Stalien lowered himself to lay alongside Murdoc’s naked body. A large pink palm settled over his hairy chest, gently smoothing the wiry hair down slightly. He had noticed that the alien lacked body hair and thus seemed utterly fascinated with his, it was strangely endearing. 

**‘Are you in any pain?’**

“Not sure,” Murdoc said. His throat felt dry from how hard he was breathing not five minutes ago. 

There was still a delightful tingle of pleasure hovering. Murdoc was sure once it seeped out, and he felt human again and not like a boneless blob, the aches from his fall would come back. He knew sex would only exacerbate the discomfort. 

“How’re you feeling?”

**‘I admit, with some embarrassment, I was already riled up from yesterday. I apologize for being overzealous.’**

Waving a hand lazily, Murdoc sighed. He turned his head enough to look at the alien, once more observing his strange otherworldly face. 

“I think I needed that. After making nice with my old man’s bottle, it was nice letting go for a moment or two.”

Stalien pressed his lips to Murdoc’s forehead, a pleased buzz filling their bond. Once his face was in view again, Murdoc eyed the alien. 

“This is gonna take some getting used to.”

**‘Oh?’**

Despite the mental prompting, Murdoc drifted into quietness. He let his eyes draw down to Stalien’s chest and first set of pectoral muscles. With the endorphin rush from sex draining away, Murdoc felt the throb of his previous injuries come trickling in. For a moment he let himself sit in the sensations, grounding himself in the reality of his situation. He was emotionally entangled with an alien. There was no right or wrong way to feel about the circumstances.

Stalien brought a hand up and tucked hair behind his ear, watching him while he watched Stalien’s chest. The gesture was kind and for a minute he let himself absorb the feeling, pretending that he wasn’t a train wreck of problems, that he hadn’t just dragged some ethereal creature into his muddled up life. Eventually he turned himself into Stalien’s chest and tucked up against the larger male. As he expected, the alien encircled him with four arms and started providing warmth for his smaller body. He took a moment to recognize his pain being absent and when he did he surprisingly kept his mouth shut, allowing Stalien to comfort him.

There would be consequences for their bonding, Murdoc was sure of that, but there and now he let his weird alien partner sooth him. He could deal with things later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can finally work on First Contact the proper story now...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Currently as I post all these new stories I'm working on Universal, Beyond the Sea and First Contact (the full story for this 2-shot's AU).


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